Switch In Identities
by Baby Blues
Summary: In a different time and dimension, Angel is a Demon Hunter, and Buffy is the vampire with a soul. A different angle of the trials and angst of this pair's heartbreaking love story.
1. Completely Timeless

Title: Switch In Identities  
  
Chapter Title: Completely Timeless  
  
Author: Baby Blues  
  
E-mail: purely_blissful@hotmail.com  
  
Rated: R  
  
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine, but the story is.  
  
Summary: Angel, the Vampire Hunter, meets an en-souled demon by the name of Buffy. An obsession to find out who she is spring up as he searches for answers about the woman who had stirred something within him.   
  
Dedication: To Aaron, who announced to my entire French class about Jacob asking me out. Thanks a lot, Buddy. Feelin' the love.   
  
Excerpt:   
  
~Angel: Who are you?  
  
~Buffy: A friend . . . an old friend.   
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Angel gazed back at his watch worriedly and frowned. It had already been a half an hours since he had called Cordelia and Gunn to tell them to meet him at Caritas. Yet, they still weren't here. It was either they had lost track of time and found an alley to make out . . . or they had been attacked . . . or even possibly killed.   
  
  
  
He stood up from the bar stool he sat on and grabbed his leather jacket, a hard and cold expression marring his handsome face.   
  
  
  
"Angel Cakes, where ya goin' ?" Lorne, also known as The Host and owner of the bar, asked him.   
  
  
  
Angel looked back at him, his brown eyes meeting his red ones. "Cordy and Gunn is still not here," he said, his voice a deep rumble . . . like a soft growl of warning from an animal. He put on his black leather jacket, "If they get here, tell them that they're dead when I get my hands on them." With that, he turned, his duster billowing behind him.  
  
  
  
Lorne sighed and shook his head and his placed his Margarita on the bar. "That man needs a woman," he told the bar tender, who only replied him back with a grunt and a nod. "You know . . . I know a girl who would love him."  
  
  
  
"Demon?" the bartender asked knowingly.  
  
  
  
"Is there a problem with that?" Lorne asked, a bit offended that there was anything wrong with demons. Especially a green one who comes from another dimension called Pylea.   
  
  
  
The bartender shrugged and wiped away a puddle on the bar. "Nothin.' Just saying that a kid like that, a *demon* hunter may I add, won't want nothin' to do with no weird ass demon," he explained, "A kid like that needs a good woman who's gonna take care of him without no hesitations."   
  
  
  
"Oh, shut up," Lorne scoffed, "Who asked you anyway."   
  
  
  
The bartender looked at him pointedly.   
  
  
  
Lorne glared at him. "Do not," he said, "patronize me." He walked away in a huff with the bartender softly laughing at him.   
  
  
  
  
************  
  
  
  
  
The sound of fighting caught Angel's ears immediately after he walked out of Caritas. Instincts of a demon hunter quickly took over as he sprinted across rows of empty alleys. He finally halted when he found where the fight was, and watched with much curiosity and amazement as a girl, small and tiny, beat the living daylights out of what looked to be a vampire.   
  
  
  
"Leper girl," the demon growled after he had been thrown against the wall with ease and crashed against a bunch of metal trashcans.   
  
  
  
"Leper girl?" she laughed, her voice a melodious tune full of life, "Never heard of that before," she grunted and kicked him against the stomach.  
  
  
  
The vampire rolled down the alley and Angel's eyes finally found a pair standing against the corner, wide eyed and shivering from fear.   
  
  
  
"You've betrayed us!" the vampire roared in anger. "Betrayed us all!"   
  
  
  
The girl did a back hand flip and a cartwheel before giving the demon a high kick that sent him flying towards Angel.  
  
  
  
Reflex took over as he took out his stake and shoved it deep within the demon's heart.   
  
  
  
A beat later, the vampire let out a scream before it crumpled to the ground in a pile of dust.   
  
  
  
There was a moment of silence as the girl quietly studied the young man that gazed at her with a frown. He couldn't see her face since her back was against the single flickering light of the alley.   
  
  
  
A shuffle echoed through the brick walls that enclosed them, and a moment later, Gunn and Cordelia was beside Angel, studying the girl as well.   
  
  
  
"Who are you?" Angel asked, his voice strong and clear, and a bit intimidating as well.   
  
  
  
"A friend . . . an old friend," was her reply.   
  
  
  
Angel's lips tightened as a feeling of familiarity ran through his veins, causing his knees to wobble from the force of the emotion. His jaws clenched as he willed to control himself, and glared at the young woman.  
  
  
  
"That's barely an answer," Angel said fiercely, a surge of warmth swelling heavily through his body in a chorus of overactive nerves.  
  
  
  
Her silhouetted form shrugged. "Can't say much," she said truthfully, "You weren't even supposed to see me. But I knew your friends wouldn't be able to handle a gang of vampires."   
  
  
  
Angel looked at Gunn and Cordy, and they nodded their confirmation.   
  
  
  
"Listen," she chuckled a bit, "It's not a big deal. Just pretend this never happened and we'll go on our merry way."   
  
  
  
"I don't think so," Angel said coldly. "I wanna know who you are." He stared at her for a moment, noticing her fidgeting. "Were you sent by the Powers?"   
  
  
  
She didn't answer and threw him a small box that he easily caught in his hands. He stared at it with suspiciousness. "Don't worry," she said, "It's not a bomb or anything."  
  
  
  
He glared at her but opened it. Inside, within the velvet confines, was a silver cross with fancy and delicate engravings on it. It looked expensive and fragile, but from the weight of the necklace, it was definitely sturdy and strong. "Your fight against the darkness has just begun. It's not over . . . not until they all die."   
  
  
  
Angel looked up from his intent gaze on the necklace . . . and she was gone.   
  
  
  
"Whoa . . . " Gunn commented, "That was . . . "  
  
  
  
"Yeah," Cordelia mumbled. "And in comes the weird Twilight Zone music," she said and Gunn began humming the tune as the three of them looked around where the young girl could have possibly gone.   
  
  
  
  
************  
  
  
  
  
On top of one of the buildings, the young woman stared down at the three confused forms with a bittersweet smile.   
  
  
  
She pushed her hands inside her pockets and watched as they all left the alley with Angel staring back as though he would see her again.   
  
  
  
Her heart flipped and ached. After years without him. . . years of utter loneliness, she finally got the chance to gaze into his handsome face again. But it would have to be her last.   
  
  
  
  
More danger would befall him if the demons of the underworld knew that HE was back.   
  
  
  
And she would never let that happen . . . never again.   
  
  
  
"I know it's tough," a voice behind her said.  
  
  
  
She smiled bitterly, not bothering to look back to see who it was. "You have no clue," she said knowingly.   
  
  
  
"Yeah," the voice chuckled, "I know. It seems to be just the right thing to say in this kind of situation."   
  
  
  
She didn't say anything.   
  
  
  
"You're doing the right thing here, kid," he said.  
  
  
  
"But is it enough?" she asked, tears gathering in her eyes.   
  
  
  
"For now," was all he said.   
  
  
  
She nodded. "Go away, Whistler," she chocked, the tears finally falling. "I can't stand you right now."   
  
  
  
"When did ya ever?" he asked, but disappeared anyways . . . for his sake . . . as well as hers.   
  
  
  
  
  
Continued . . . 


	2. Mystery Girl #1

Title: Switch In Identities  
  
Chapter Title: Mystery Girl #1  
  
Author: Baby Blues  
  
E-mail: purely_blissful@hotmail.com  
  
Rated: R  
  
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine, but the story is.  
  
Summary: Angel has a strange dream, calls up his Watcher, and goes out on patrol.   
  
Dedication: To . . . George Harrison, who will always be remembered. Always. After all, music is immortal as love.  
  
Excerpt:   
  
~Angel: Can you at least tell me your name?  
  
~Buffy: Buffy . . . Just . . . Buffy.   
  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
  
"Who are you?" Angel found himself asking as the figure of a woman in a light pink and cream 18th century attire walked ahead of him, bathed in pure sunlight that didn't even exist.   
  
  
  
She looked at him, her head tilted to the side.   
  
  
  
Angel flinched at the brightness and tried to adjust his vision to see her more clearly, but failed miserably.  
  
  
  
She giggled lightly and opened her umbrella made of silk and lace before. She swung and twirled it around playfully as she endlessly walked ahead of him, and as he continued to follow her like a lost puppy.   
  
  
  
"I'm . . . I'm serious," Angel said lamely as she repeatedly laughed and floated without a care in the world.   
  
  
  
She stopped and sighed, carefully closing her fragile umbrella that had become unusually tattered. "You always are," she said irritably, and he felt her pout through the blinding light she was made of.   
  
  
  
She walked up to him and wrapped her arms around his neck, and for the first time in Angel's life, he recognized the place he belonged . . . She rested her head against his cheek and whispered lightly, "I'm the love of your life . . . the only one," she said.  
  
  
  
Angel closed his eyes dreamily before pulling her closer to his body. "Who are you?" he asked again.  
  
  
  
Her reply was a sudden fierce scream that caused him to cover his ears as everything around him turned dark and deadly. He looked around for her, but she had disappeared, and panic ceased his heart.   
  
  
  
A thunder echoed steadily above him as the scream continued on, the sound of pain and suffering slicing through the thick and humid air.   
  
  
  
The sky turned red, and he was suddenly surrounded in piles of bleached bones.  
  
  
  
The clouds began to bleed red droplets of grief, and Angel fell helplessly to his knees. He stared at his hands, covered in blood before staring up at the face the Master, smirking harshly at him.  
  
  
  
"Her life . . . for yours," the vampire sneered.   
  
  
************  
  
  
Angel sat up form his bed, sweat beading his forehead as he continued panting. He stared at his clock: 3:21 in the morning it glared in a bright red color.   
  
  
  
He let out a breath and rubbed his eyes wearily.   
  
  
  
Since meeting that mysterious girl a week before, he'd been having the strangest dreams practically every night now. He hadn't bothered to tell his watcher since he figured it must be because he had become quite infatuated with the unknown young woman; whoever she may be.  
  
  
  
But with this latest dream . . . maybe he should.   
  
  
  
He picked up the phone on his nightstand and dialed a number, continuing to rub his eyes and hopefully erase the image of the Master's disgusting face from his mind.   
  
  
  
"Hello?" a groggy voice asked through the phone.  
  
  
  
"I had a dream," Angel stated calmly, turning on his lamp.   
  
  
  
"That all men were created equal," a British voice yawned.   
  
  
  
"Who is that?" a woman's voice asked.   
  
  
  
"It's Angel," the Brit answered before the woman groaned and probably went back to sleep.   
  
  
  
"Bloody hell, Angel. What's this all about?"   
  
  
  
"I've been having these strange dream for the past week and a half," Angel confessed, "I met this girl . . . "  
  
  
  
"Oh, God . . . "   
  
  
  
"Wesley!" Angel growled, "I'm serious."  
  
  
  
"You always are."   
  
  
  
"That's the same thing she said in my dream."   
  
  
  
"Well she's right," Wesley sighed.   
  
  
  
"Can we get back on topic?" Angel said warningly.   
  
  
  
"Sorry," the older man said without guilt.  
  
  
  
"She was strong," Angel reminisced the sight of such a small girl holding onto so much power. "She saved Cordy and Gunn from a gang of vampires. A girl, Wesley, a girl," he insinuated.   
  
  
  
Wesley frowned. "I've never heard of female Demon Hunters before," he murmured. "Did she leave her name?"   
  
  
  
"No," Angel answered simply, holding up the silver cross the girl had given to him. "She said I wasn't supposed to know."   
  
  
  
"Hmmm . . . " Wesley was silent before asking, "How about the dreams?"   
  
  
  
Angel sighed and let the necklace fall against his chest. "They're almost the same all the time," he described, "It's always a girl, the same girl, dressed in dresses from early 1700's. I can never see her face, she's always surrounded by light." Angel laid back down on his bed and stared up at his blank ceiling. "She's always saying phrases . . . they sound more like riddles. I don't remember them," he said, "And in the end, she disappears and I'm left in the dark."  
  
  
  
"What was different tonight?"   
  
  
  
"She screamed," Angel said, remembering the sound of the chilling voice, "The sky started raining blood and I was covered by it . . . " he chocked, but swallowed the gulp that was stuck in his throat, "The Master appeared . . . he said . . . he said 'Her life . . . for yours.' "   
  
  
  
  
************  
  
  
  
  
Angel walked down the streets of LA. The bums and the homeless scattered the streets, sitting quietly in their corners by the trashcans and alleys. The hookers and prostitutes paraded in front of the cheap stores and shops, fluffing their feathers and smoking cigarettes.   
  
  
  
"Hey, honey . . . you lookin' for a tumble tonight?" a woman asked, her face plastered with pounds of makeup and dressed in shiny tacky vinyl.  
  
  
  
Angel shook his head and noticed the sound of police sirens in the distance. "No thanks," he said coldly before moving on.   
  
  
  
"Jackass," he heard the woman mutter before she headed off towards a car that had stopped in front of her.   
  
  
  
Gotta love the streets of LA.   
  
  
  
After saying good-bye to Wesley, an apology to Virginia, Angel decided that a quick patrol would do some good for his nerves.   
  
  
  
Wesley had promised that they would head towards the hotel to do some research.   
  
  
  
In other words . . . things couldn't be figured at the very moment.  
  
  
  
The sound of fighting reached his ears, and without a second thought to the cheap, and possibly disease contained prostitute, he ran towards the fight.   
  
  
  
"You had everything, Elizabeth!" a demon growled as Angel watched in fascination as the same girl from a week ago take on three large demons in an empty alley.   
  
  
  
"Everything?" she laughed, "How 'bout that pony I've always wanted for my birthday? I never got that," she complained.   
  
  
  
One demon dropped to the dingy ground before melting away in a puddle.   
  
  
  
"You were to become queen," another howled as she kicked him towards the brick wall. He soon dissolved in a puddle as well.   
  
  
  
The last demon charged at her, knocking her down with enough force that sent sliding across the alley way. She got on her knees and stared at the demon without fear in her eyes or stature.   
  
  
  
"You are nothing now," the demon chuckled, "Just a walking, talking . . . nothing . . . "   
  
  
  
He melted into blue goo before he could finish.   
  
  
  
The young woman looked up and stared at Angel, who stood there with a sword and a frown.   
  
  
  
"We should stop meeting like this," he commented.   
  
  
  
"I agree," she said, getting up on her feet gracefully.  
  
  
  
Silence.  
  
  
  
"Can you at least tell me your name?" Angel asked, not wanting this girl to leave . . . and at the same time not wanting her to know.   
  
  
  
"Buffy . . . " she answered hesitantly, "Just . . . Buffy."   
  
  
  
"Buffy? Didn't that demon just call you Elizabeth?"   
  
  
  
"Well if you already heard . . . why ask?" Buffy countered back with a hint of amusement.  
  
  
  
Angel was caught off guard by that question as his mind raced to find an answer.   
  
  
  
Buffy chuckled lightly, the same laugh of the girl in his dreams . . . quite literally. "Elizabeth was a girl from long ago. People and demons alike mistake me for her . . . but she died," she said, and left it at that.   
  
  
  
"Buffy . . . strange name," he said.  
  
  
  
She shrugged. "I'm a strange person."   
  
  
  
Silence.  
  
  
  
"Can I walk you home?" Angel offered, not wanting to just leave it at this.   
  
  
  
But Buffy shook her head. "What I told you before . . . how I couldn't be near you for reasons that has to be left unsaid . . . well . . . that hasn't changed. The two of us have to accept it," she said, and turned to walk away.   
  
  
  
But before she could take another step, she collapsed on the ground.   
  
  
  
  
  
Continued . . . 


	3. Shirtless and Breathless

Title: Switch In Identities  
  
Chapter Title: Shirtless and Breathtaking  
  
Author: Baby Blues  
  
E-mail: purely_blissful@hotmail.com  
  
Rated: R  
  
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine, but the story is.  
  
Summary: Buffy's injuries causes Angel to drag her into his home in which he promises to take care of her wounds for saving his ass.   
  
Dedication: To . . . Jacob, who made out with me in the middle of fuckin' hall! *LOL*  
  
Excerpt:   
  
~Angel: Nice tattoo . . . What does it mean?  
  
~Buffy: My angel . . . My savior.   
  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
She was as light as air, around one-hundred pounds perhaps . . . maybe even less. She looked so innocent in his arms as he walked back to the empty hotel he called home, not noticing anyone else but her.   
  
  
  
It was as though he had sank into another world . . . willingly and without a second thought.   
  
  
  
And it was only her who was with him.   
  
  
  
She suddenly moaned, jolting him out of his deep thoughts. He looked down at her, completely mesmerized by her beauty. Golden spun hair . . . and skin naturally tanned.   
  
  
  
Her eyes fluttered open, and he was met by bright hazel eyes that stared back at him in awe and surprise.   
  
  
  
"Liam . . . " she mumbled dreamily.   
  
  
  
Angel frowned as she shook her head, trying to clear her mind.   
  
  
  
"Jesus Christ," she muttered hoarsely.   
  
  
  
Angel gently set her on her feet, keeping an arm around her to keep her steady. He took out his keys and opened the entrance to the Hyperion Hotel.   
  
  
  
Without a word, he slowly led her inside as he turned on the lights.   
  
  
  
"Shit," Buffy grumbled, finally noticing the deep gash on her stomach.  
  
  
  
"You've got a pretty nasty bump on your head too," Angel added to her dilemma.   
  
  
  
She gently touched her forehead, wincing slightly at the swelling. "Stupid Keldim Demons," she complained angrily.   
  
  
  
Angel smiled faintly and walked behind the hotel counter to get the first aid kit that Cordelia always had at hand's reach in their dangerous job.   
  
  
  
"Just lift up your shirt and . . . " he turned to find Buffy in nothing more than a black sports bra covering her slim and well defined body. She rubbed her shoulders and looked up at him expectantly.  
  
  
  
He stood there, mouth agape.   
  
  
  
"You're attracting flies," she said with a smile.  
  
  
  
He shook his head and embarrassedly cleared his throat. "Get on the bed . . . the counter," he stuttered with a soft curse.   
  
  
  
Buffy quirked an eyebrow in amusement but did as she was told. She hopped on the counter, facing the side as Angel studied her wound beneath the florescent light . . . but something else caught his eyes.   
  
  
  
"Nice tattoo," he said, noticing the black drawing permanently inked on the flesh of her right shoulder blade. It was an A with angel wings surrounding it in a dramatic flight. "What does it mean?" he asked.   
  
  
  
"My angel," she whispered a bit sadly, "My savior."  
  
  
  
Angel nodded, not wanting to delve deep into her soul at this very moment. Just being with her, just being this close and to finally see her face was enough. He didn't want to scare her away with too many questions.   
  
  
  
He steered his gaze back to her injury.   
  
  
  
"Why were you out tonight?" he asked.   
  
  
  
"Why were you?"   
  
  
  
"I asked you first."   
  
  
  
"Thought I could release some tension."   
  
  
  
"Is this the only way to do that?"   
  
  
  
She chuckled. "There are other ways . . . but we won't go there now will we?"   
  
  
  
Angel had the heart to blush.   
  
  
  
"Nice place," she said, looking around the lobby.   
  
  
  
"It was owned by my grandfather," he explained, "I lived in an apartment before I found out that this was mine."   
  
  
  
"Why not put it back up again. With some refurnishing and new paint . . . it would make a great hotel again," she suggested.   
  
  
  
"Don't want the responsibility."   
  
  
  
Buffy nodded.  
  
  
  
"Where do you live?" Angel asked her.  
  
  
  
"Around."   
  
  
  
"That's it?"   
  
  
  
"Yup," she answered as he finished dressing the cut. Angel looked at her eyes, glittering with much mischief. "Were you following me?" she asked suddenly.   
  
  
  
"Why would I do that?" Angel found himself replying.  
  
  
  
She shrugged.  
  
  
  
Angel began putting away the first aid kit and grabbed an ice-pack from the small fridge beneath where she sat. He handed it to her and she graciously took it and placed it carefully on her forehead.  
  
  
  
Angel leaned against the counter, trying to look casual, even though inside, his heart was pounding a mile a minute and his breathing was starting to become too much work.   
  
  
  
"You're the girl who appears and disappears as she pleases. How would I know you were out tonight?" Angel asked, countering her question if he was following her.   
  
  
  
"Don't you feel it?" she asked, looking at him with hopeful green eyes.   
  
  
  
He frowned. "Feel what?"   
  
  
  
She shook her head. "Nothing. Never mind," she said, grabbing black hooded sweater and putting it back on.  
  
  
  
Angel silently saddened at seeing her gorgeous body get covered once again.   
  
  
  
He shook his head. "You can't just ask that kind of question and . . . and say that," he said as she hopped off the counter to look around the hotel much more closely.   
  
  
  
"You need more plants in here," she said.   
  
  
  
Angel laughed without humor. "I'm not a plant or animal person. Anything living dies in my hands."  
  
  
  
"I doubt that," she commented.  
  
  
  
"Tell that to the twenty tropical fishes that had gone down the toilet . . . and the ten plants Cordelia left me to take care of," he said.   
  
  
  
Buffy stared back at him, sincerity in her eyes. "Not everything you touch dies," she insisted, and walked towards him to take his hand in hers. "These hands have saved the world many times." She placed her other hand against his chest, and Angel closed his eyes at the feeling of her caressing touch. "And this heart has survived every heartache the world had threw back at it . . . and look," she smiled, "Through all that . . . it still beats."   
  
  
  
"Don't change the subject," he said through clenched teeth as he grasped her wrist and forced her to stare into his brown eyes. "Were you following me?" he opposed, not wnating to get into the details or the reason how she knew of his past . . . his heartaches.   
  
  
  
She smiled wickedly.  
  
  
  
"Why?" Angel asked.  
  
  
  
" 'Cause maybe I like you," she answered with a careless shrug.   
  
  
  
"Maybe?"   
  
  
  
She nodded, but suddenly caught herself and looked away. 'Stop flirting!' she silently scolded herself. "I have to go," she said sadly and walked towards the door she entered with her hands in the pockets of her sweater.   
  
  
  
Angel quickly blocked the door. "No," he said a bit eagerly. He blushed and cleared his throat before saying with much more calmness, "At least stay for a little more while." His mind raced on any sort of reason so she would stay. He began grasping at straws. "How about some coffee?"   
  
  
  
Buffy smiled and was about to place her hand on his cheek, when she pulled her cold hand away.   
  
  
  
"I can't," she whispered and took a deep breath. "I really . . . can't," she said, looking up at him, her eyes pleading for him to let her go.   
  
  
  
Angel sighed and gave in.   
  
  
  
He stared down at the cold floor.   
  
  
  
Buffy could only look at him as she opened the door and stared at his sagging stature.  
  
  
  
Angel heard the door open and then close.   
  
  
  
He then turned and watched her walk down the steps.   
  
  
  
  
  
Continued . . . 


	4. The Addams Family

Title: Switch In Identities  
  
Chapter Title: The Addams Family  
  
Author: Baby Blues  
  
E-mail: purely_blissful@hotmail.com  
  
Rated: R  
  
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine, but the story is.  
  
Summary: Buffy returns home to her estrange family.   
  
Dedication: To . . . everyone! Happy Holidays! Enjoy break, 'cause I sure will . . . with all the writing and typing I'm gonna do. Sounds like a bore . . . but you guys will enjoy the outcome of it! Hopefully anyways! ^__^  
  
Excerpt:   
  
~Xander: Hey, Buff . . . Care for a game of Gold Fish?  
  
~Buffy: What are we playing for?  
  
~Oz: Thongs.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Buffy placed her key inside the gold lock and turned it before opening the door. She was then greeted with the sounds of laughter and chatter inside the penthouse she called home.   
  
  
  
Buffy smiled and closed the door behind her, dropping her keys on the table by the door as she gazed around.   
  
  
  
All the lights were on in living room. It was completely empty except for the empty cream colored couch, cherry wood coffee table with a clear glass vase filled with cream colored roses. A few petals were strewn across the wood, suggesting a new set of roses to replace them.   
  
  
  
Silky cream drapes hung from the top of the large windows that overlooked the city of LA and towards the floor, the bundle blending in with the cream colored plush carpet.  
  
  
  
A large big screen TV stood off to the left.   
  
  
  
The bedrooms and the bathrooms were in the hall to the right, and at the end would be the staircase that would lead to the second floor where her master bedroom, the game room, the balcony, and the party room would be.   
  
  
  
Buffy took a deep breath and rubbed her shoulder wearily. It had been a long and tiring night with emotions *and* hormones running high. She could still remember the tender contact of Angel's hands on her skin as he tended to her wound . . . she had missed his touch greatly during these years.  
  
  
  
She sighed and walked towards the right where the grand dining room and kitchen should be.   
  
  
  
"Hello, Buffy," Giles greeted warmly, not taking his eyes away from his book as she sat on the bar stool next to him on the kitchen counter. "How was patrol?" he asked, taking a tentative sip of his coffee.   
  
  
  
"Hell," she answered, "Got beaten up pretty badly."   
  
  
  
He looked up form his book and frowned. "Are you alright?"   
  
  
  
She nodded. "Angel helped," she said, and slightly lifted up her shirt to show him her injury, gauzed up and already healing.   
  
  
  
Giles carefully studied it and stared at her in worry. "How did it go?"   
  
  
  
"He's growing a fascination with me," Buffy answered truthfully as she nervously fidgeted with her fingers. "I don't know if I can continue staying away from him . . . and if he'll take my warning and stay away from me."  
  
  
  
The old man placed a comforting hand on her shoulder and smiled sadly. "You can only do your best, Buffy," he told her.  
  
  
  
She nodded and sighed. "I know what you must be thinking," she said, chuckling bitterly. "For two-hundred and plus years . . . you would think that I'd be over him," she shook her head, "But I'm not. Liam was the love of my life . . . he opened doors for me. He made me love, he made me trust . . . and now he's back." Tears brimmed her eyes.   
  
  
  
Giles pulled her into a hug, the ex-Watcher stroking her hair in comfort. "It's alright."   
  
  
  
Buffy chuckled again. "I wish."   
  
  
  
Giles took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I don't know what The Powers That Be are planning to do with this fiasco they had come up with . . . " he said truthfully, "But all I can say is that . . . you have to be strong. For yourself . . . and for him."   
  
  
  
"Is that all I can do?" Buffy sobbed.  
  
  
  
"That and . . . have faith . . . " he said with a tone of certainty, "And dream about the future."   
  
  
  
"The future . . . " she whispered, closing her eyes as grief clouded her face. "Do you think I'll have one?" she asked, "With him?"  
  
  
  
"Have faith, Buffy" Giles repeated, "And just dream."   
  
  
  
  
************  
  
  
  
  
"Hey, Buff," Xander greeted as the vampire with a soul entered the dining room, taking in the sight of her friends playing cards on her priceless antique Victorian table.   
  
  
  
A small crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, giving off a light bright enough for them to play under. The priceless antique plates, cups, napkins, and utensils were carefully stored away within their glass case cabinets that surrounded the dining room.   
  
  
  
"Care for a game of Gold Fish?" Xander asked, holding up the back of his cards so no one could take a peek at it.   
  
  
  
Buffy smiled at him. "What are we playing for?" she asked, sitting down next to Willow as the redhead smiled at her in greeting.   
  
  
  
"Thongs," Oz answered, staring at his cards with much concentration.   
  
  
  
Xander gaped at him. "You barely talk two words in a month and you had to waste one of those words on 'thongs'?" the brunette scolded.   
  
  
  
"Sorry," Oz apologized without an ounce of sincerity.   
  
  
  
"Great," Xander rolled his eyes, "There goes word number two."   
  
  
  
"Get over it, honey," Anya said brightly.   
  
  
  
The entire room burst into and argument and Buffy had to smile.   
  
  
  
This was her family. No matter how messed up they all were . . . they were as close to home as she could possibly get.   
  
  
  
With Xander as the front man and the much needed comedy of the group. The only normal human within their circle.   
  
  
  
Next came Anya. Xander's girlfriend. A vengeance demon without . . . well . . . the vengeance. She was still getting to the human lifestyle after more than a thousand years of being a demon.   
  
  
  
Oz, their house trained werewolf, was the quietest out of all of them . . . but the most thoughtful as well. Even with his lack of words, whenever Oz did talk, it was the most welcoming thing anyone of them could hear.  
  
  
  
He was the one Buffy could talk to the most. He listens without a word and is able to bring her comfort with one sentence. Nobody really knew how close the two of them grew right after his break up with Willow.  
  
  
  
Willow, the redhead, was a witch in her proper respect. She would be considered as Buffy's best friend and sister.  
  
  
  
Tara, Willow's girlfriend, quietly sat with Willow. She never talked much, just like Oz. But when she did, she stuttered. She was a witch as well. Not as powerful as Willow, but close enough.  
  
  
  
"So Buff," Xander said, steering Buffy out of her thoughts, "What do you bet?"   
  
  
  
Buffy smirked. "The one I'm wearing now."   
  
  
  
Everyone stared at her.   
  
  
  
"I am so definitely in," Xander said, earning a smack on the head from a very jealous Anya.  
  
  
  
  
************  
  
  
  
  
Buffy entered her room after a long game of Gold Fish with the rest of the gang and Oz silently winning all the thongs, they had all retired to their rooms after their twelfth game, except for Giles who went to bed early.  
  
  
  
She turned on the lights and was greeted with her large canopy bed, cream sheer drapes hanging from it like a rainfall of silk. To the right was her bathroom, her closet, and a small lounge room with a settee, a TV, VCR, CD player, her Play Station, and her new X-Box.  
  
  
  
She walked towards her balcony, opening the double French doors and letting in the cool breeze. Her curtains billowed dramatically as she walked out into the gray stone terrace, looking out at the sea of twinkling lights.   
  
  
  
She looked down at her hands, particularly her left hand where a wedding ring should be placed in her ring finger.   
  
  
  
She shook her head in agitation as she rubbed the bridge of her nose, a bad and pretty disturbing habit she picked up from Giles.  
  
  
  
"I need to stop this," she mumbled.  
  
  
  
"Stop what?"   
  
  
  
Buffy smiled and took a deep breath. "What are you doing here?"   
  
  
  
"Noticed that something was bugging you," Oz said, coming up to stand besides her. "You met with Angel I reckon."   
  
  
  
"Yup," she nodded.  
  
  
  
"Then I can pretty much guess what happened," he said.  
  
  
  
Buffy nodded again.   
  
  
  
Silence.  
  
  
  
"Love is immortal," Oz finally broke in. "It's never forgotten . . . remember that," he said and turned and left Buffy with her thoughts.   
  
  
  
  
  
Continued . . .   
  
  
  
  
  
Just to let everybody know, this is Sare Bear, Baby Blues' friend. She just went through a surgery and won't be able to update for sometime. So, as her bestfriend, I'm gonna be updating until she recovers. Again, thank you for the reviews, not only on her behalf but mine. You've given her something she can excell at and you guys have made her happy just for enjoying her stories. :) 


	5. Research To Go

Title: Switch In Identities  
  
Chapter Title: Research To Go  
  
Author: Baby Blues  
  
E-mail: purely_blissful@hotmail.com  
  
Rated: R  
  
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine, but the story is.  
  
Summary: Cordelia, Wesley, and Gunn talk to Angel about his mystery girl. A certain vampire makes an unexpected visit.   
  
Dedication: To . . . my dog Liberty, 'cause she's the cutest little thing.   
  
Excerpt:  
  
~Wesley: Buffy . . . Sounds oddly familiar.  
  
~Gunn: 'Demon' familiar or 'I met her in a bar once' familiar?  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Hey, Angel . . . you're drooling, man."   
  
  
  
The Demon Hunter quickly sat up, woken by the booming voice that he could only conclude was from Gunn.   
  
  
  
He stared at his surroundings and was met by three pairs of curious eyes studying him.   
  
  
  
"Wha . . . "   
  
  
  
"Must've been one hell of a night," Cordelia commented with a smirk as she took in the rumpled appearance of her best friend: his dark hair a tangled mess, his clothes wrinkled along with it, and his eyes droopy and bloodshot from his lack of sleep.   
  
  
  
"What did you do all last evening?" Wesley asked worriedly looking over at the counter where a notepad laid open and a cup of black coffee sat cold besides it.   
  
  
  
Angel snapped out of his dormant state and snapped the notebook shut before they could see what he's been doodling in it all last night. He grinned up at them, blushing a bit. "Nothing . . . just . . . nothing," he explained.  
  
  
  
Cordelia quirked an eyebrow, not buying any of it.   
  
  
  
She snatched the notepad and quickly ran out of his reach as she turned to the page he had been writing on.   
  
  
  
Angel watched in horror as she gaped at it with wide eyes, smiling impishly. "Well, well, well," she mocked faintly before looking up at him. "Mr. O'Connor . . . what the hell is a 'Buffy?!' " she asked with a frown.   
  
  
  
Angel sighed and dropped back down on the stool. "The girl of my dreams."   
  
  
  
"What? Like a Madonna and Pamela Anderson type of dream girl?" Cordelia asked, turning the page to find a beautiful drawing of a young woman.   
  
  
  
"No . . . more like in a literal sense," he answered and looked at his Watcher, "I saw her again after I called you . . . Her name is Buffy . . . "   
  
  
  
"What kind of name is Buffy?" Cordy asked as Gunn came up behind her and began studying the sketches Angel had drawn page after page.  
  
  
  
"Buffy?" Wesley frowned, "Sounds oddly familiar . . . " He reached the shelves of book before anyone could say anything.   
  
  
  
" 'Demon' familiar or 'I met her in a bar once' familiar?" Gunn asked, seizing the notebook from Cordelia so he could study the drawings a bit more closely.   
  
  
  
Both Wesley and Angel glared at him for different reasons.  
  
  
  
"Wait . . . is this the girl who saved our asses?" Cordelia asked.  
  
  
  
Angel nodded.  
  
  
  
"Good choice," she said with a nod. "Both a bit paranormal . . . so she's definitely not gonna freak out about the demons and other ghostly beings standing in the living room and/or kitchen," she said, and then looked over at Angel and his attire and remember the specific color Buffy had worn on the night she had saved them. "And both prefer the color black . . . " Cordelia added snidely.  
  
  
  
Angel glared at her.   
  
  
  
"Buffy . . . " Wesley muttered, running his fingers across the spines of the ancient books that lined the walls. "I know I've read of her somewhere . . . Watchers Diaries. But which one?" he asked himself as he grabbed a few books and flipped through the pages.  
  
  
  
"While this is all fun and interesting, is there anything we need to kill?" Gunn asked, flopping down on a couch as he looked at the other three expectantly.   
  
  
  
Cordelia sat next to him, still flipping through the notebook.   
  
  
  
"Good God, Angel," she said, her face turning into a grimace. "I think your mind went a little 'overboard-nasty' at the end of the night," she commented, looking at the drawings that had suddenly turned nude, even if the private parts of the body were covered with bed sheets or something or another. "It's Titanic all over again."   
  
  
  
"Let me see that," Gunn said grabbing at the notebook.  
  
  
  
But Angel seized it before he could see the sketches, blushing as he shut the notebook. He smiled awkwardly and quickly bolted up the stairs. "I'm gonna take a shower," he explained.   
  
  
  
"You better not do what I think you're gonna do in there!" Cordelia yelled after him.   
  
  
  
Gunn looked at her with disgust. "Thanks for the picture, Cordy."   
  
  
  
"Hey, your mind . . . not mine," she smiled and got up to help Wesley with his research.   
  
  
  
  
************  
  
  
  
  
Wesley frowned. "It says here that Doyle, the Demon Hunter before you, Angel, had a run in with a young woman named Buffy in a graveyard and in his first month as a Hunter. She helped him through his first Apocalyptic battle a few months later."   
  
  
  
"That can't be," Angel said, shaking his head in denial, "Doyle was called in '85. Buffy can't be more than 25 years old. If the two of them met at that time, she had to have been like . . . seven or eight."  
  
  
  
"So . . . vampire?" Gunn asked.  
  
  
  
"No," Angel said with a frown, closing his book as he brooded, "She fights demons, and I felt no threat when she was here last night." Angel looked at Wesley pleadingly, wanting answers and wanting them now. Buffy couldn't be a vampire. Probably an immortal being who worked for the Powers That Be.   
  
  
  
Yeah . . . that had to be it.   
  
  
  
"Wes, she could've killed me, but she didn't. Explain that," Angel challenged.   
  
  
  
Wesley placed his book on the counter and stared at Angel's serious eyes. "I'm not quite sure."   
  
  
  
"There has to be some sort of reasonable explanation," Angel said as he began to pace, "We can't just rush into any conclusion."   
  
  
  
"Look," Cordelia said, picking up the book Wesley had been reading, "It says here that Buffy disappeared after helping Doyle out after the battle. His Watcher saw her again when Doyle died in '93, placing a single white rose on his graveyard . . . still looking the same 8 years before."   
  
  
  
Angel closed his eyes. This wasn't happening. Here he was, finally infatuated with someone and she had to be a God-damned vampire.  
  
  
  
He mentally hit himself.  
  
  
  
There is still no proof that she is a vampire, his insisted silently.   
  
  
  
"I still don't believe it," he said, shaking his head.   
  
  
  
Wesley sighed. "Angel . . . I know you like this girl . . . "  
  
  
  
"I don't like Buffy," the Hunter denied hurriedly.  
  
  
  
"Fine . . . you've become friends with this girl," Wesley stated instead, "But we have to face some facts here. She could be dangerous . . . she could a be a threat. Maybe not now or at this moment . . . but she can . . . and we're going to have to take care of it before it gets out of control. Do you understand?"   
  
  
  
Angel glared at his Watcher and threw down his book, causing them to all jump in surprise. He felt the cool silver against his chest, hidden form their view, and had more faith that there had to be another reason . . . that Buffy wasn't a demon or a vampire.  
  
  
  
The Demon Hunter grabbed his leather jacket. "I'm going for a walk," he stated angrily as he opened the door . . .   
  
  
  
Only to be met by a pair of familiar blue eyes.   
  
  
  
"Oh, God," Angel groaned, annoyed and more than irritated at the unwanted sight before him, "Not you . . . "  
  
  
  
"Hello, Peaches . . . Mind if I have a bit of a talk with ya?" the man said, arrogance written clearly in his British accent.   
  
  
  
  
************  
  
  
  
  
The Demon Hunter, the Seer, the Watcher, and the Bounty Hunter stared at the bleach blond vampire who had made himself comfortable on the lobby couch.   
  
  
  
"You don't mind if I smoke, right?" the Billy Idol look-alike asked, and lighted a slim fag before they could answer his haughty request.   
  
  
  
"Nice digs, Peaches . . . where's the tourists?" he laughed, looking around the hotel with a smirk on his handsome and pale face.   
  
  
  
"Get to the point, Spike," Angel said dangerously, "What the hell are you doing here."   
  
  
  
"I need your help to find someone," Spike said truthfully, blowing out a cloud of gray smoke out of the corner of his mouth.   
  
  
  
Cordelia snorted in revulsion as she rolled her eyes in complete disgust. "Druscilla left you again?" the brunette asked mockingly, " 'Cause I, for one, will not look for that psycho bitch even if you paid me."   
  
  
  
Spike glared at her. "Dru is dead," he stated without an ounce of emotion.   
  
  
  
"Oh," Cordelia shrugged and became silent.  
  
  
  
"I'm gonna ask again," Angel growled, "What are you doing here?"   
  
  
  
"I just bloody well told you, wanker," Spike frowned, "I need help to find someone. A very important someone."   
  
  
  
"I'm afraid to ask who this someone would be," Wesley sighed.  
  
  
  
"My sire," Spike answered, his eyes clouding a bit.  
  
  
  
"Your sire? I thought Druscilla was your sire?" Gunn asked, puzzled.   
  
  
  
Spike shook his head, flicking the butt of his cigarette on the floor, causing both Angel to glare at him. He was *not* in a good mood for Spike's bullshit and carelessness in his own home. "No . . . I'm a bit older than her."  
  
  
  
Wesley made a move for the books again. "So . . . who *is* your sire?" the Watcher asked.   
  
  
  
"She was known as Eliza in her demon days," Spike answered, lighting up another cigarette, "She goes by the name Buffy now."   
  
  
  
Silence.  
  
  
  
"What?" Angel gaped at him in shock.   
  
  
  
  
  
Continued . . .   
  
  
  
  
  
Thanks for your guys' best wishes to Baby Blues. Don't worry, she's fine and will be back on her feet in no time . . . if she can only survive through the pain meds. She's kind of out of it. *lol* 


	6. Pain In the Ass

Title: Switch In Identities  
  
Chapter Title: Pain In the Ass  
  
Author: Baby Blues  
  
E-mail: purely_blissful@hotmail.com  
  
Rated: R  
  
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine, but the story is.  
  
Summary: Spike wants to find his sire . . . and a few revelations are made. Can Angel accept this new information?   
  
Dedication: To everyone! Happy New Year!   
  
Excerpt:  
  
~Spike: She's my bloody sire . . . I can feel her. And I know she's near.   
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Buffy . . . she's your sire?" Angel asked in horror.  
  
  
  
Spike nodded. "I can only guess that you've met her," the blonde said in conclusion. "Blond, hazel eyes, petite, about yay tall?" Spike asked, lifting his hand five feet from the floor.  
  
  
  
"What's on her left shoulder blade?" Angel challenged as jealousy and ache creeping towards his heart at the fact that if Spike answered correctly, then not was it true that Buffy was a vampire, but Spike's ex-lover as well.   
  
  
  
"You saw her naked?!" Spike roared.  
  
  
  
"What's. On. Her. Left. Shoulder?" Angel asked through gritted teeth, yet enjoying Spike's reaction with male pride.   
  
  
  
"An 'A' with wings," the blonde answered, glaring back at Angel with more than a hint of possessiveness.  
  
  
  
"I feel a lot of tension in the air," Cordelia commented quietly, earning a quick agreement from Gunn who nodded.   
  
  
  
"Eliza you say?" Wesley asked as he flipped through some pages of a book. The Watcher looked at Spike with a mix terror and surprise on his face. "But Eliza died in 1883."   
  
  
  
"She did," Spike said with a slight nod, "And Buffy was born the day the demon died."   
  
  
  
"I fear I don't understand," Wesley said in confusion.  
  
  
  
"Eliza gained a soul that day. A punishment given from a young man from a gypsy clan," Spike explained.  
  
  
  
"A soul?"   
  
  
  
"Yes. A bloody soul. A bloody conscience. The essence she lived with when she was still alive and breathing . . . when her heart was still beating and when she was still able to go out in the sun and bask in its rays," Spike described touchily and with a wave of his hand.   
  
  
  
The others stared at him blankly.  
  
  
  
Spike rolled eyes. "Bloody hell," he muttered, "When a person turns into a vampire, they loose their soul. With me so far?"   
  
  
  
They just continued to stare at him in question.  
  
  
  
The bleach blonde took a deep breath to calm his nerves down and continued on, "When a person arises as a vampire, the demon takes over the body while the soul floats up in heaven or wherever they hang out," he went on, "But if a vampire were to have been given back their soul, the demon is held back and is then controlled by the spirit once again."  
  
  
  
"So the vampire now has to live with an essence from before it became a vampire," Wesley said, eyes widening in understanding.  
  
  
  
"Exactly," Spike said in relief glad that Jeeves at least comprehended what he was saying if not the others. "The soul now has to live with the torture of knowing what they did . . . all the lives they took, all the massacre they created in their wake," he said, brightening a bit from the remembrance.  
  
  
  
"You are one sick and twisted vampire," Cordelia said in disgust.   
  
  
  
"Why thank you," Spike replied cheerily.  
  
  
  
"It says here that Buffy . . . "   
  
  
  
Angel glared at him, not really knowing why. But Wesley understood and cleared his throat.   
  
  
  
"I mean . . . Eliza that she was a very fierce demon," Wesley said as Angel walked towards him and scanned the pages along with his Watcher. "Feared all over Europe . . . especially ten years after she was made. That's when she became well known."   
  
  
  
"Yup," Spike said proudly, "Sired by the Master. She was a childe born in revenge. The ultimate weapon against the Demon Hunter of that time."   
  
  
  
"How?" Wesley asked curiously.  
  
  
  
Spike shrugged. "I don't know the whole story. Eliza didn't tell me all the nitty gritty details of her life as a human, but she did say that her change caused the Hunter a lot of pain . . . thus weakening him. I'm not quite sure how the rest went, but the Hunter survived to live ten more years." Spike smirked wickedly, "The Master failed once again. What else is new, ey?" he chuckled.   
  
  
  
Angel nodded. "The demons from last night called her Elizabeth . . . reminded her how she was supposed to be queen or something," he said, wanting Spike to elaborate what they meant before he screamed at the skies for the unfairness of it all.   
  
  
  
Buffy . . . a vampire.   
  
  
  
He wanted to hit something . . . namely Spike.   
  
  
  
"She fancied the name Eliza more . . . did she kill them?" Spike asked quirkily.  
  
  
  
"She did . . . actually."   
  
  
  
"That's my girl," Spike playfully purred, causing Angel to glare at him.  
  
  
  
"What's with the queen thing?" Cordelia asked.   
  
  
  
"Eliza was destined to become the most powerful vampire in history. She was supposed to bring chaos and nobody was to stop her," Spike said, beaming. "And as her chosen mate, I was to become her right hand," he said proudly.   
  
  
  
"Mate?" Angel almost choked.   
  
  
  
No . . . Good God . . . No! Not with this . . . thing, this living corpse!   
  
  
  
"Yes," Spike grinned impishly, "Mate . . . of every word."   
  
  
  
Angel was ready to vomit.   
  
  
  
"Then is that why the young gypsy cursed her with a soul?" Wesley asked, interrupting the jealous verbal sparring the two young . . . well . . . maybe not young . . . but males were soon to get into, "For fear that the prophecy would come true?"   
  
  
  
Spike frowned. "Don't really know why the kid gave her a soul," he answered truthfully, "Only Buffy knows the true answer to that question. But I wouldn't doubt the kid was her toy. Eliza likes playing with her food," Spike grinned.   
  
  
  
Angel wanted to heave, from the mental picture of Buffy drinking from a human and Buffy with this . . . vampire. Disgusting and very annoying vampire. Who needs a new set clothes and a new personality.   
  
  
  
"So," Spike said, clapping his hands together, "You gonna help or what?"   
  
  
  
"Yes," Angel replied too quickly.   
  
  
  
Everyone stared at him in surprise.   
  
  
  
"So," Angel said, running for the book cases, "Let's get this started. Cordelia, you're on the net. Gunn, I want some answers on the street. Wesley, get to the books and don't forget to call the watcher's Council."   
  
  
  
Everyone still sat motionless.  
  
  
  
"Why are you so bloody eager to help, Peaches?" Spike finally asked for all of them.   
  
  
  
"I'm not," Angel insisted with a shrug, "Just want to know who she is."   
  
  
  
The others stared at him doubtfully, but said nothing.   
  
  
  
  
************  
  
  
  
  
"Found her address," Cordelia stated triumphantly after a few hours of non-stop searching in front of the computer. "And damn . . . she likes to live in style. A nice penthouse looking over LA."   
  
  
  
"I'll search there," Spike called as he grabbed the piece of paper from Cordelia. "I'll call you if I find her there!" with that, the vampire disappeared down in the basement to go through the sewers.  
  
  
  
"Not even a thank you?" Cordelia scoffed, "Rotten vampire," she mumbled.   
  
  
  
"You still have the address?" Angel asked hurriedly, wanting to get there before Spike did.   
  
  
  
He needed to talk to Buffy first . . . plus, he didn't want to know what would happen in the meeting between her and Spike. He just couldn't and didn't want to even imagine it.   
  
  
  
"Hold your horses there, Romeo," Gunn spoke as he came through the entrance door, "She's in the skating rink on the other side of town. She leaved in an hour. You can still catch up . . . "   
  
  
  
Angel grabbed his jacket before Gunn could even finish.   
  
  
  
He had to see her.   
  
  
  
  
  
Continued . . .   
  
  
  
  
Hi! I just want to clear something out. I didn't write these chapters. It's all been Baby Blues work. She wrote these before she went into surgery. I'm just updating. I can't write worth shit. I draw. But I can't write. It's all Baby Blues so there's no credit for me. I just do the updating. Yeah, so, just to let eveyrone know. :) 


	7. Olympic Star

Title: Switch In Identities  
  
Chapter Title: Olympic Star  
  
Author: Baby Blues  
  
E-mail: purely_blissful@hotmail.com  
  
Rated: R  
  
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine, but the story is.  
  
Summary: Angel finds Buffy in a skating rink.  
  
Dedication: To Erin. The other crackhead.   
  
Excerpt:  
  
~Angel: You're a vampire . . .   
  
~Buffy: So what? . . . What does that makes me? . . . An unfeeling dead corpse that's just walking around killing and maiming the innocent?   
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
~In The End~  
Linkin Park  
  
//It starts with  
One thing/I don't know why  
It doesn't even matter how hard you try  
Keep that in mind/I designed this rhyme  
To explain in due time  
All I know  
Time is a valuable thing  
Watch it fly by as the pendulum swings  
Watch it count down to the end of the day  
The clock ticks life away  
It's so unreal  
Didn't look out below  
Watch the time go right out the window  
Trying to hold on/But didn't even know  
Wasted it all just to  
Watch you go  
I kept everything inside and even though I tried/It all fell apart  
What it meant to me/Will eventually/Be a memory/Of a time when//  
  
  
  
  
Angel moved slowly down the soft and tough blue padding as the chosen song drifted to his ears. It was a haunting medley of anguish and sorrow. It was something that shouldn't have twisted at his heart, but did . . . from what, he wasn't entirely sure.   
  
  
  
He watched with keen brown eyes as the beautiful female form skated across the ice like she was born to be there. A ballerina floating just above it, looking as though she was skimming just above it. She was like a fairy enchanting the solid water with her grace.   
  
  
  
She was elegant and refined. Her body a limber vessel of beauty, confident enough to show both tenderness and strength within a dance.   
  
  
  
And he watched, mesmerized as she continued to skate with innocent abandon. Dressed casually in baby blue silk sweat pants, a white top, and a matching sweater with a hood dangling in the back. Her white skates melded within the bright white ice, making her look as though she was a part of it.   
  
  
  
Her golden hair was tied up in two pigtails, making her look child like and even more beautiful because of the purity it portrayed.   
  
  
  
She was magnificent.  
  
  
  
  
//I tried so hard  
And got so far  
In the end  
It doesn't even matter  
I had to fall  
To lose it all  
In the end  
It doesn't even matter//  
  
  
  
  
Too bad the music didn't fit her beauty and outer appearance of absolute virtuousness.   
  
  
  
As the sad lyrics surrounded them both, and as she turned and twisted on the hard surface of the skating rink like a professional skater, there was no denying the sadness which she was suffering in.   
  
  
  
And Angel wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and make the pain go away. No woman, as wonderful and as gorgeous as she was, should endure in any heartbreak. She shouldn't be drowning in grief. She should survive it and learn from it instead.   
  
  
  
He was so caught up in watching her that he didn't even comprehend that she had seen him and was skating towards him, panting a bit . . . even if she didn't actually need to breath.   
  
  
  
Angel's face turned hard in remembrance, and his back stiffened when she finally approached him.   
  
  
  
She smiled warmly at him, not noticing the sharp edges of his aura. "How'd you find me?"  
  
  
  
"I have my sources," he replied tersely.  
  
  
  
She quirked a perfect brow. "Anything I can help you with?"  
  
  
  
"You can start by explaining about you're being a vampire," he replied.   
  
  
  
  
//One thing/I don't know why  
Doesn't even matter how hard you try  
Keep that in mind/I designed this rhyme  
To remind myself how  
I tried so hard  
In spite of the way you were mocking me  
Acting like I was part of your property  
Remembering all the times you fought with me/I'm surprised  
It got so [far]  
Things aren't the way they were before  
You wouldn't even recognize me anymore  
Not that you knew me back then  
But it all comes back to me  
In the end  
You kept everything inside and through I tried/It all fell apart  
What if meant to me/Will eventually/Be a memory/Of a time when I . . . //  
  
  
  
  
Buffy's face stared at him in surprise as well as horror. How he had found out, she'll probably know soon. But she actually didn't want him to know. Especially about her being a vampire. "How . . . "  
  
  
  
"I told you," he said, gazing at her with cold eyes that used to look at her with such love and lust, "I have my sources."   
  
  
  
"Obviously," she answered softly.   
  
  
  
"You're a vampire . . . "  
  
  
  
"So what?" she asked calmly, fighting the tears and the hurt that was consuming her insides, "What does that makes me? . . . An unfeeling dead corpse that's just walking around killing and maiming the innocent?" she countered, holding back the anger and the pain at being seen as the enemy . . . especially when it came from him.   
  
  
  
"Do you?" he snapped with a frown.   
  
  
  
She smiled bitterly. "You would like that wouldn't you?" she asked him and then stared at his deep chocolate brown eyes. "I may be a vampire, Angel . . . " she informed him. "But I have a soul of a human being," she said, "Think of that the next time we have this conversation," he told her before sadly skating away, the song the only thing he heard as he watched her leave.   
  
  
  
  
//I put my trust in you  
Pushed as far as I can go  
And for all this  
There's only one thing you should know . . .   
  
I put my trust in you  
Pushed as far as I can go  
And for all this  
There's only one thing you should know . . .   
  
I tried so hard  
And got so far  
In the end  
It doesn't even matter  
I had to fall  
To lose it all  
In the end  
It doesn't even matter//  
  
  
  
  
  
Continued . . .   
  
  
  
  
  
Sorry for the delay you guys! But I'm back! Finals have arrived! Bleck! *lol* I won't be able to update 'til this weekend. But it'll be soon! Promise. First off, I'd like to thank Sare Bear for updating! You're my favorite! And to all of you guys for your best wishes and get well comments. Especially to those who e-mailed with concerns and sent e-cards. You know who you are! ^__^ I'm fine. Just a little out of it with the pain meds. *lol* Anyhow, thank you guys again! 


	8. Wicked Lovers

Title: Switch In Identities  
  
Chapter Title: Wicked Lovers  
  
Author: Baby Blues  
  
E-mail: purely_blissful@hotmail.com  
  
Rated: NC-17  
  
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine, but the story is.  
  
Summary: Spike and Buffy meet up at Caritas. We finally find out what happened the night Buffy received her soul.  
  
Dedication: To Chad! Sexy, funny, and you lost the flirting game with me, sucka! "Is that Gucci?!" *lol*  
  
Excerpt:  
  
~Spike: I missed you, pet.   
  
~Buffy: I missed you too, Spike.   
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The small karaoke bar called Caritas was filled to the maximum. Everywhere she turned, there was a form of a demon and another. There were a few humans, but was mostly populated by the other. They were either lounging and drinking a Margarita or a Bloody Mary, Cosmopolitan or O positive. That or singing on the stage.   
  
  
  
It wasn't at all strange to find a Fryole demon singing a classic song such as 'Unforgettable' or 'Reunited' in its own language in this bar.   
  
  
  
At least that was what she heard from Xander who had gone here last week with Anya to find out some information for her. According to him, the singing was fun, and the bar was peaceful. No fighting, no dying.   
  
  
  
But watching a Fryole demon doing just that, singing in its own language and on the stage with the spotlight glued onto him, was an unbelievable sight. She couldn't help but stare at it to make sure it was real.   
  
  
  
"Hello there," a particular green demon wearing a tacky blue suit greeted with a warm smile.   
  
  
  
"Hi," Buffy said uneasily, looking up at him with her big hazel eyes.   
  
  
  
"Well, Buttercups," he gasped, staring into the her large orbs that showed him a world of emotions. "You have an old soul in you. I can tell."   
  
  
  
Buffy smiled. "It's not the outfit, is it?" she chuckled.   
  
  
  
Lorne laughed with her, instantly enjoying her sense of humor. "Not at all," he said, taking in small and slim form. She looked beautiful, a classic beauty with an undeniable amount of strength hidden within her innocent body.   
  
  
  
He smiled again and motioned for her to follow as he sipped his Martini. "I'll take it you're not here for business," he concluded, noting the way she gazed around, studying the place.   
  
  
  
"Actually . . . no," she shook her head. "Had nothing else to do, so I thought, what the hey," she shrugged.   
  
  
  
Lorne nodded and motioned for her to sit on an empty bar stool. "What can Alexandrov get you?" he asked as the bartender looked up from his mixing to give her a small grin.   
  
  
  
"I'll have a Strawberry Margarita. Not too strong, please," she ordered.  
  
  
  
"Ah, a sweet yet seductive type. Innocent . . . but alluring. The lack of alcohol says it all," Lorne teased before looking up to find the Fryole demon finished with his singing. "Well, I see Wrinkly here is done. If you change your mind . . . " Lorne insisted, looking pointedly at the stage.   
  
  
  
Buffy smirked. "I promise to keep the idea open," she assured him.   
  
  
  
"Good," he said and winked.   
  
  
  
Alxandrov placed the pink Margarita, slushy and light on the alcohol, in front of the pretty blond. She said her thanks and gave him a warm smile, and for a moment, he thought about how that single demon hunter who would definitely fit perfectly with this beaming young woman.   
  
  
  
"A Jack, mate," a voice ordered, bringing him out of his thoughts.   
  
  
  
Buffy stared at her drink, not really comprehending the body who sat next to her, nor the gleaming blue eyes that raked over her form. But when the familiar sensation began to work up her spine, she quickly looked to her left . . .   
  
  
  
"Spike . . . " she whispered, wide eyed.   
  
  
  
"Eliza . . . " he said in the same tone.   
  
  
  
She looked away, and if she was able to blush, she'd be doing that now. "It's Buffy now," she said with a small smile.   
  
  
  
Spike stared at her. "I heard," he replied, staring at her. The simple white top with a loose cowl, the dressy yet casual black pants, a slim silver belt that was tied loosely around her luscious waist, the trendy yet classy stilettos, and the leather jacket draped over a slender and tanned arm. She looked like a model straight out of a Vogue Magazine.   
  
  
  
"Still the same as ever . . . completely careless with his appearance," she said, taking in his form. His dirty blond curls had changed, cut short and bleached. He wore a black shirt, a red silk buttoned shirt, black jeans, and a black leather jacket. He looked like a punk . . . and it suited him. His face hadn't changed. Still handsome with his high and prominent cheekbones and glittering blue eyes.   
  
  
  
Without thinking, she touched the collar of his leather duster, fixing it with a reminiscing smile.   
  
  
  
Spike closed his eyes, the both of them remembering the times, back in the olden days. She could still clearly visualize the way she used to fix his tie in front of a full length mirror whenever the two of them went out to a party . . . the way he would touch her cheek as she concentrated solely on her task. She always got distracted by his touch . . . Always.   
  
  
  
"I've missed you, pet," he said softly, placing his own cold hand against her own on her chest.   
  
  
  
"I missed you too, Spike," Buffy replied before leaning closely to place a tender kiss in the corner of his lips. She sighed and slowly pulled away, guilt suddenly crossing over her features. "I'm sorry . . . for abandoning you that night . . . "   
  
  
  
Spike smiled. "I was bloody confused . . . and I was angry and bitter."   
  
  
  
Buffy nodded, looking at her Margarita.   
  
  
  
  
**Flashback**  
  
  
  
  
April 14, 1883  
Rome, Italy  
  
  
  
  
It had been a night full of dancing and sipping the finest champagne in all of Europe. William, known as Spike to those who truly knew of him, and Eliza, his sire and the most seductive and sadistic vampire in history, returned back to their current home, aroused and completely tipsy from their long night of amusement.   
  
  
  
A light touch of the lips had turned into a passionate kiss, sending the couple tumbling towards their bedroom. The muffled sound of Druscilla in her bedroom, talking with her dolls, didn't even disrupt them as they came crashing through open bedroom door.   
  
  
  
Spike, in his impatient state, slammed it shut with his foot as they toppled down to the floor in a pile of silk, lace, and cotton.   
  
  
  
"You animal," Eliza groaned as Spike captured her lips in a heated kiss.   
  
  
  
The petty coats that women those days usually wore never did came across Eliza's mind, and Spike was grateful as he plunged deep into her in one full on thrust that had her screaming for more.   
  
  
  
It always brought a smile to his face whenever she went au natural without a second thought. That was what he loved most about her. Her simplicity and yet her complexity. An even balance that had him intrigued.   
  
  
  
He continued thrusting into her, enjoying her deep moans and the pleasure that overtook her beautiful face as the two of them began to peak, reaching their most wanted climax.   
  
  
  
"Look at me, pet," he ordered in a grunt.   
  
  
  
Eliza's eyes fluttered open, but before she could lock with Spike's blazing blue eyes, her orbs flashed a bright yellow and then she began panting.   
  
  
  
"No . . . " she suddenly whispered, her body beginning to tremble from the shock and the confusion that was swiftly consuming her. "No, no, no!" she cried and pushed him off of her, getting up on her feet as she sobbed, the pain clutching at her heart.   
  
  
  
"Eliza?" Spike asked in confusion as she stared up at him.   
  
  
  
She looked down at him, falling from her eyes. "No!" she screamed and ran out of the room, stumbling slightly on her dress.   
  
  
  
Druscilla peeked out of her room and watched her sire run down the stair case in a frantic state, and with Spike shouting from their bedroom.   
  
  
  
"My poor Mummy," she mumbled, clutching at her doll, " My poor Mummy!" she cried as she slid down to the floor in misery. Nothing would ever be the same anymore. Nothing.   
  
  
  
Spike watched helplessly as Eliza slammed the door shut, her sobs still echoing in the walls of their home. He didn't know what just happened, but he knew one thing, he had just been deserted by his mate . . . and his demon panicked from the thought of incompletion and utter misery without his other half.   
  
  
  
"Eliza . . . "   
  
  
  
  
**End of Flashback**  
  
  
  
  
"I didn't know why you just ran out like that, luv," he sighed, taking a swig of his drink, "I thought you would return . . . but Druscilla started ranting that you wouldn't."   
  
  
  
Buffy stared at her Margarita, the outside of the glass condensing with small droplets of cold water.   
  
  
  
Guilt ate at her insides as she remembered that last night in which she had been in Spike's arms. She had abandoned him along with her other childe, Druscilla. She had left them, her favorite childers.   
  
  
  
"I'm so sorry, Spike," Buffy apologized, tears brimming her eyes.   
  
  
  
"Hey now," Spike scoffed lightly with a smile, wiping away the stray tear that had escaped from her eyes, "None of that, pet."   
  
  
  
"But . . . "   
  
  
  
Spike placed a finger against her lips to quiet her. "I forgave you long ago, Buffy," he said with a small grin that she had come to know, "Long ago."   
  
  
  
  
  
Continued . . .  
  
  
  
  
  
Hi guys! Sorry for the delay. Had a lot of things going on at the moment. I've noticed the decline in some GOOD B/A fanfics and decided to finish my stories a bit more earlier so I can upload new ones. So just to let everyone know, there's gonna be a few new stories coming up within a few weeks. So watch out for that! 


	9. Green Eyed Monster

Title: Switch In Identities  
  
Chapter Title: Green Eyed Monster  
  
Author: Baby Blues  
  
E-mail: purely_blissful@hotmail.com  
  
Rated: NC-17  
  
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine, but the story is.  
  
Summary: Angel watches jealously in the background of Caritas. A duet between the two blondes of a Shakira song.   
  
Dedication: To Rosy O'Donnell, I'm gonna be in her show one of these days. *lol*  
  
Excerpt:  
  
~Spike: I missed you, pet.   
  
~Buffy: I missed you too, Spike.   
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Angel took a sip of his simple yet strong scotch on the rocks. Not a complicated drink like a Margarita, nor a poor college man's beer like a Jack Daniel's. Just a good old scotch.   
  
  
  
He watched the display occur between Spike and Buffy in disgust. He had entered Caritas in hopes to clear his mind of a few things, mostly of a particular vampire who he was, at the moment, ogling and glaring at. Instead, he had found her with her 'mate.' She was seated right next to the bleach blond ass, talking and smiling like they were old chums . . . which they practically were. Even more than that, actually.   
  
  
  
Angel scoffed. He didn't know what was wrong with him. Why should he be jealous. There was nothing to be jealous about. She was a vampire . . . with a soul, but still! She was a vampire! And nothing would be able to change that. It was wrong. He was a demon hunter and demon hunters killed vampires.   
  
  
  
He looked over at the two chatting pair, specifically the hot blonde with the slim figure, the glossy pink lips . . . the perky breasts.   
  
  
  
Angel, he thought to himself with a shake of his head, Where are your thoughts going, buddy?  
  
  
  
He gulped down the rest of his drink and shoved the glass away as he continued to brood in the dark corner of Caritas, out of everyone's sight . . . and out of everyone's mind.   
  
  
  
"They make a pair."   
  
  
  
"Go away, Lorne," Angel ordered.   
  
  
  
"Touchy, touchy," the green demon scolded lightly, carefully sipping his drink as he observed the pair at the bar along with the Demon Hunter, "They make quite a comfortable couple."   
  
  
  
"Oh, yeah. Add Druscilla in the picture and you got the Three Musketeers . . . with fangs," he scoffed sarcastically.   
  
  
  
"I feel a lot of jealousy emitting from you in shocking waves," Lorne said, a bit surprised and shocked. But then gave him a knowing look. "You like her, don't you? That's why you're a bit hostile about it. I can tell."  
  
  
  
Angel snorted. "Give me a break," he said and gulped down another drink that a waitress placed on his table. "I do not fall for weird vampire girls who has connections with Spike."  
  
  
  
"I specifically remember a time when you were a bit smitten by Druscilla yourself," Lorne teased.   
  
  
  
Angel frowned. "That psychopath knew how to play mind games well," he answered, "She made me believe that she was sane when she was completely out of her mind."  
  
  
  
"Still," Lorne shrugged and looked back over to Buffy. "She's pretty."   
  
  
  
"She's a vampire."   
  
  
  
"With a soul."   
  
  
  
"And your point is?" Angel rolled his eyes.   
  
  
  
"That you might have something here . . . don't throw it away just because you're not open minded," Lorne smirked before leaving the hunter with his thoughts.   
  
  
  
Angel stared after the green demon, and wished for an ax at that exact moment so he could just hack off its head so he didn't have to hear anymore its cryptic quotes. He was sick of hearing riddles when he just wanted straight answers. Was that too much to ask?  
  
  
  
The hunter suddenly scowled when the pair got up from their seats and headed straight for the stage with Lorne leading them . . .   
  
  
  
  
************  
  
  
  
  
"It'll be fun," the green demon urged.   
  
  
  
"I don't know," Buffy replied uneasily.   
  
  
  
Spike shrugged. "I'm up for it," he said and took a swig of his beer. "Like old times, pet. I know that voice 'o yours. Ya need to start sharin' it," he grinned sincerely, his blue eyes slightly glazing over from the memories of their past.   
  
  
  
Buffy let out a sigh. She remembered those memories as clearly as he did. Remembered the times when they would share a bath, mostly at Spike's insistence that everyone needed help with cleaning their bodies. She had always humored him . . . not that she minded, of course.   
  
  
  
She could still smell the fine and rich oils that emitted from the water, the soft bubbles that tickled her skin, and the feel of Spike's flesh, warm from the water, beneath her as they sang songs together . . . as they washed each other backs, and other unmentionable body parts.   
  
  
  
"Pet?" Spike asked, "Whatdya say?"   
  
  
  
Buffy looked into his crystalline cerulean eyes and nodded with a small smile.   
  
  
  
"Fabulous!" Lorne exclaimed.   
  
  
  
'For old times sake,' Buffy thought as Spike grasped her hand to help her down the stool. Always the gentleman, no matter how cocky or arrogant he seemed. William Broader, his human counter part, will always be a part of Spike no matter what happened to him. And that made the bleach blond vampire more than unique . . . and even more than a demon.   
  
  
  
"Hello, and good evening," Lorne said through the mic as Buffy stood quietly behind him. "We have a special treat for you tonight. Buffy and Spike, sire and childe, with their very first duet here in Caritas. Let's give it up for them," he cheered and began clapping.  
  
  
  
Spike gave her a reassuring smile as the spotlight shone brightly at the two of them. He grabbed a guitar and sat on a stool before finally beginning, strumming the strings with accuracy and professionalism.   
  
  
  
Buffy took a deep breath and stepped forwards towards the mic stand, looking around the karaoke bar at the many faces of demons and humans alike. She closed her eyes and finally let the music take over.   
  
  
  
"You're a song, written by the hands of God. Don't get me wrong, this might sound to you a bit odd. But you own the place, where all my thoughts go hiding, right under your clothes . . . is where I find them," she sang loud and clear, her voice soft and billowing in the air.   
  
  
  
Angel and the rest of the club sat in silence. No one said a word as the beautiful blond continued to sing with a sense of abandon. She was so beautiful, practically glowing in ethereal light.   
  
  
  
"Underneath your clothes, there's an endless story, there's the man I chose, there's my territory. And all the things I deserve, for being such a good girl honey," her voice rang out, strong and true like the summer winds.   
  
  
  
The entire club became entranced, not only because of her loveliness, but the hint of sadness that accompanied her voice. And they wondered why it was there, wondered who could have possibly placed it there.   
  
  
  
Buffy opened her eyes and suddenly caught Angel's gaze with her own. "Because of you . . . I forgot the smart ways to lie. Because of you, I'm running out of reasons to cry," she sang as they stared at each other without even truly realizing it. Brown eyes met hazel ones, and it seemed as though in that exact moment, everything seemed perfect. "When the friends are gone, when the party's over. We will still belong, to each other . . . "  
  
  
  
Angel couldn't help but believe in those words. Somehow . . . it seemed true . . . it sounded true. It was a foolish thought, considering the fact that they never belonged to each other to begin with.   
  
  
  
"Underneath your clothes, there's an endless story. There's the man I chose, there's my territory. And all the things I deserve, for being such a good girl honey," she sang effortlessly along with the guitar.   
  
  
  
Angel stared at her form, his lower jaw involuntarily dropping at the hypnotizing energy she seemed to be made out of. And for a moment, Angel forgot that she was a vampire, and unconsciously let himself fall deeper in love with her.   
  
  
  
"I love you more than all that's on the planet. Movin,' talkin,' walkin,' breathin.' You know it's true, oh, baby it's so funny, you almost don't believe it. As every voice is hanging from the silence, lamps are hanging from the ceiling. Like a lady to her good manners, I'm tied up to this feeling . . . "   
  
  
  
Spike's talent in his guitar playing followed next. His fingers played over each string with precision, emitting gorgeous sounds from the instrument that he held proudly in his hands.   
  
  
  
Buffy looked at Angel again as she sang the next and last phrases from the song. "Underneath your clothes, there's an endless story. There's the man I chose, there's my territory. And all the things I deserve, for being such a good girl honey," she sang, her gaze never wavering from his as her voice became even stronger . . . and sadder with each note, "Underneath your clothes, there's an endless story. There's the man I chose, there's my territory. And all the things I deserve, for being such a good girl. For being such a good girl . . . "  
  
  
  
The entire bar was silent, still shocked at the power and the beauty Buffy seemed to be surrounded with. Vampire and Demon Hunter continued to gaze into each other's eyes, lost within the other.   
  
  
  
The thunderous clapping tore them away from their world. Buffy finally looked away and smiled at Spike who bowed and presented her with a wave if his arms. She chuckled lightly and curtseyed before gazing out into the audience to find the entire bar on their feet and cheering quite loudly.   
  
  
  
Buffy looked towards the seat where Angel was sitting to offer him a small smile, a peace offering, but when she turned there, the young hunter was gone. She quickly scanned the bar in time to see him leave the club, his duster billowing mysteriously behind him.   
  
  
  
She sighed.   
  
  
  
Only time will tell if he will accept her . . . and offer a place in his heart.   
  
  
  
  
  
Continued . . .   
  
  
  
  
Hey guys! Please check out Dead N Sexy's story called "Broken Hearted.' He's a new author, and a virgin in fanfiction writing. *Lol* Make him welcome and review his story. And he's single. He told me to say that. hahaha! 


	10. The Many Forms of Buffy

Title: Switch In Identities  
  
Chapter Title: The Many Forms of Buffy  
  
Author: Baby Blues  
  
E-mail: purely_blissful@hotmail.com  
  
Rated: NC-17  
  
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine, but the story is.  
  
Summary: Wesley finally finds the book of Buffy's entire life story. The entire gang are up for a surprise.   
  
Dedication: To Lindsey, who talks to much in French. Lol I luv ya, babe!  
  
Excerpt:  
  
~Cordelia: Oh. My. God.   
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"I found it," Wesley breathed in utter shock.   
  
  
  
"Found what?" Cordelia asked curiously as she looked up from the computer screen.   
  
  
  
"Buffy's life history," he replied as he gazed down at the wilting leather book as though he had just found something so grand as the much sought after chalice of The Last Supper.   
  
  
  
Angel quirked up as he crossed the lobby towards Wesley and grabbed the book from him. "Wait! I wanted to . . . "  
  
  
  
The Hunter's eyes skimmed through the words, seeing the black letters but not really understanding it as his mind fought to comprehend what the Watcher's Journal was saying. But it didn't help, all he perceived and recognized was the word 'vampire.' He had known that Buffy always was . . . but here was the ultimate proof, all in one book that basically held most of the answers about the mysterious woman.   
  
  
  
Wesley carefully tugged the book away from the stunned Angel and flipped to the very beginning. "It says here that Buffy was born as Elizabeth Anne Summergale in 1726 in Paris, France," Wesley informed everyone as he walked towards the counter where his coffee sat. "It seems as though she was considered to be a very wild young woman. Very strong willed and independent."   
  
  
  
"In other words, not one of those noble girls with no brain," Angel offered as he listened attentively to Wesley.  
  
  
  
"Exactly . . . well . . . she was very much a noble woman, but rebellious in every way," the Watcher informed him, "She was sought after . . . it seems. Considered a fine jewel. Many of the young men, seeking a wife of that time, wanted her as their own, but were always turned down in the end."  
  
  
  
Angel couldn't hide the mirthful smirk that followed after that. 'Good.'  
  
  
  
  
**Flashback**  
  
  
  
  
"Don'tz you ever wish zat you were finally settled down, Elizabeth? Married and witz e child," she gazed up in excitement, "Mon cherie . . . I could already be an aunt by now," a child with long straight brown hair told the older woman who sat elegantly on her vanity table, brushing her soft curly blond hair.   
  
  
  
She smiled, her brilliant hazel eyes twinkling in mischief and mirth. "Oh, ma petite," she sighed, putting her brush down before turning to face her younger sister who had draped herself on her bed, "Such zilly questionz for a young girl who needz not to worry about zuch thingz, non?"   
  
  
  
Dawn rolled her eyes. "You'll become one 'o those ladiez who will be zleeping lonely in her bed for the rezt of her existenze," she commented dramatically before gracefully hopping off the bed and trudging off to her own room.  
  
  
  
  
**End of Flashback**  
  
  
  
  
"She was still not married when she was at the age of 18."   
  
  
  
"Big whoop," Cordelia rolled her eyes.   
  
  
  
"But this was in the year of 1744," Wesley told her, "A woman who was still not settled down by the age of 16 or 17 were already considered as elderly spinsters and old goods."  
  
  
  
"So what happened?" Gunn asked curiously.   
  
  
  
"Her father sent her away to Ireland to get her away from the scandal that had grown from her, wanting the shame and the humiliation that came with her gone from their names," Wesley said, turning to the next page of the book.   
  
  
  
"She was banished," Angel said, feeling more than a twinge of sadness for the young woman who was denied her family because of her dignified and proud character that one should be pleased with.   
  
  
  
Wesley nodded. "He depended on their youngest daughter, Dawn, to fix their tainted name . . . The fifteen year old girl never spoke to Elizabeth after that," Wesley sighed, feeling his own sympathy for the young girl.   
  
  
  
"So why Ireland?" Cordelia asked.   
  
  
  
"They had family there," Wesley replied, "Also considered to be the black sheep. Rupert Summersgale, who was expelled from the family because of his beliefs in the supernatural, and a nephew, Elizabeth's cousin, Danielle Summersgale . . . known as 'Ozzy' or 'Oz' only by her. He would later on become a werewolf."  
  
  
  
  
**Flashback**  
  
  
  
  
"If you ever had a boy child, mon cherie, what would you name him? And anzwer truthfully," Elizabeth said as she stared up at the afternoon sky with a dreamy smile on her beautiful face.  
  
  
  
"Osborne," he answered without a second thought, "I feel as though it's a musician's name. You knew . . . Osborne . . . Oz."   
  
  
  
Elizabeth frowned and sat up, staring at her cousin in disbelief as the bird of woods sang cheerily around them and the soft gush of the wind blew her tumbling blond curls in every which way. "Osborne? Oz? Are you quite mad, mon cherie?" she asked.  
  
  
  
He laughed lightly. "I think Uncle Rupert is rubbing off on ye, lass," he told her, his own Irish brogue becoming quite light from his six years spent with his English uncle.   
  
  
  
"I know," she sighed, "My own accent iz a cross between English and Irish. It's quite disturbing, mon cherie," she told him truthfully.   
  
  
  
He chuckled again at the irony.  
  
  
  
Elizabeth gasped mockingly and pushed him. "Oh, be quiet, Ozborne."   
  
  
  
"That's Osborne."   
  
  
  
"Whatever you zay, Ozzy."   
  
  
  
"Ozzy?" he laughed and tackled her before dragging her and pushing her into the lake that they often spent their free time lounging by. She sputtered and stood, glaring at him with fire in her eyes, her dress soaked and her hair matted against her face.   
  
  
  
"You'll pay for zat, Ozzy!" she shouted in a laugh before pulling him into the lake as well, thus beginning a water fight . . . a battle with screams and curses that could be heard a mile away.  
  
  
  
  
**End of Flashback**  
  
  
  
  
"Oz?" Gunn asked rather confused, "Where the hell did that come from?"   
  
  
  
"Who knows what goes on inside the brain of a future vampire?" Cordelia shrugged.   
  
  
  
"Go on," Angel said with a wave of his hand.   
  
  
  
Wesley quirked a brow, but continued anyways. "They lived in Dublin for a good year. They were considered outsiders . . . but weren't rejected so fully because they still had a decently good name attached to them," Wesley informed them all as the three listened carefully to his words, "But that soon changed when they got sick of playing nice. The three of them were practically chased out of Dublin . . . and that's how they ended up at Galway a few months later."   
  
  
  
"Galway?" Angel asked, perking up a bit, "That's where my family came from," he said, suspicion rising up his chest. There was something so familiar about this story that didn't really make sense . . . and he feared that sense of familiarity more than anything else.   
  
  
  
"Six months had passed and living quite a relatively quiet and normal life in Galway when it suddenly changes when she was saved from a vampire attack from a man by the name of . . . " Wesley's eyes suddenly widened, "Liam Angelus O'Connor . . . a Demon Hunter."   
  
  
  
  
**Flashback**  
  
  
  
  
Elizabeth gazed at her dark surroundings, pulling her shawl tighter around her shoulders as she made her way back home. It wasn't because she was cold, it was actually a particularly warm summer night in Galway, Ireland . . . but the eerie chill originate from the dark recesses of the street corners caused her much fear.   
  
  
  
Her shoes tapped lightly against the cobble stone streets as she studied the houses and buildings that surrounded her. Everything was so quiet and so still . . . no light could be seen except for the few slight glows of candles coming emitting the curtained windows.   
  
  
  
She suddenly heard footsteps behind her, soft at first . . . but louder once it came closer to her. And with that, she whipped around just in time to see a dark shadow before her and a pair of glistening white fangs.   
  
  
  
She opened her mouth to scream . . . but it was cut off when the beast unexpectedly materialized into dust before her very eyes. And in his place was the most beautiful man she ever saw. One with dark brown hair . . . and eyes the color of milky chocolates.  
  
  
  
"Are ye alright, miss?" he asked in concern.  
  
  
  
But before she could speak, she collapsed on the ground . . . having fainted.   
  
  
  
  
**End of Flashback**  
  
  
  
  
The three of them stared at Angel with surprise. The present Demon Hunter stood there in shock, not knowing what to say or how to react. Liam. He remembered her calling him that when he brought her in the hotel. Good God. So many things ran through his mind at that moment, but "What?" was all he can say in his utter shock and bewilderment.   
  
  
  
"Whoa . . . for real?" Gunn asked, his eyes wide, "So . . . you mean to tell me . . . us that this girl knew Angel's great, great, great, great, great . . . "  
  
  
  
"One of Angel's ancestors?" Cordelia finished off instead.   
  
  
  
"Well . . . "  
  
  
  
"It could be another . . . "   
  
  
  
"Oh, come on, Angel," Gunn rolled his eyes at his friend's denial, "Your family came from Galway, Ireland, you grandfather's name is Liam, YOUR name is Angelus, your last name is O'Connor, and you have the attention of a vampire who knew your great, great, great . . . whatever, and not to mention that you're all over this vampire's ass and most likely than not . . . vise-versa."   
  
  
  
Angel just glared at him in reply.   
  
  
  
Wesley frowned and continued reading. "They had an instant bond . . . it says here," the Watcher informed them all, "Liam's own Watcher noticed that from the very beginning."   
  
  
  
"Hey, wouldn't it be weird if you're like . . . the reincarnation of this Liam guy or something?" Cordelia asked in wondering conspiracy. "I've heard of those, you know," she nodded, "Some person is born, looking like a family member from way back when and then suddenly, out of nowhere, they start seeing or . . . or remembering things that they had never lived through."   
  
  
  
The brunette shook her head slightly, "I mean . . . just think about it. For years now this Buffy girl has kept relatively quiet and then BAM!" she shouted, slamming her hands together as her eyes grew wide with excitement from her own theory. "The two of you run into each other and all hell breaks lose in your hormones."   
  
  
  
Cordelia then shrugged before shivering slightly, "I mean. C'mon. We live within the radius of the Hellmouth. Reincarnations CAN happen," she eyed them with her I-Know-It-All expression, "But how freaky would that be?"  
  
  
  
"Oh, yeah," Gunn said, his face brightening as he finally remembered where he heard and saw that topic being discussed, "I think I saw that on Dateline."   
  
  
  
"Last week?" Cordelia asked him.   
  
  
  
"Yeah, with that cult who believes Marilyn Manson is the living form of God," Gunn replied, shaking his head at the madness called 'The World.'   
  
  
  
"Oh, I know . . . "  
  
  
  
"Ladies and gentlemen," Angel interrupted their tirade, "Getting back to the topic at hand?" He looked back at Wesley, trying to hide the confusion as well as the undeniable pain that had consumed his insides.   
  
  
  
Was it true? Was he only a reincarnation of a man from the past? A man who obviously had a 'bond' with Buffy?  
  
  
  
"She introduced her 'family' to him and his Watcher. They soon formed their own team, researching the paranormal together and helping Liam defeat numerous amount of apocalyptic battles and prophecies," Wesley continued on, "During the two years that they had all been working together . . . Elizabeth and Liam fell in love . . . and were actually married on the fourth year since they had met . . . to the day when he had first saved her life."   
  
  
  
  
**Flashback**  
  
  
  
  
He touched her bare arm, softly making lazy eights on her creamy and smooth skin. She smiled contently as she snuggled deeper within his embrace, the sheets of his bed wrapped around them like a cocoon of safety.   
  
  
  
They stared quietly into the fire, causing their eyes to dance with each flicker of the burning yellow and orange element.   
  
  
  
"A quiet night . . . no demons . . . no nothing," she sighed happily, "Just you and me . . . and not to mention ze bed," she giggled.   
  
  
  
Liam smiled in reply before taking a deep breath and staring up at the ceiling. This was the best time to ask her. They were alone in the house . . . with no one there to interrupt them.   
  
  
  
He slowly moved his hand under the pillow of his bed and produced a ring. He clutched it in fear, horror leisurely surging through his body at the reaction he would receive once he showed it to her.   
  
  
  
He took a deep breath, gazing at Elizabeth's golden head before lifting the ring up, inspecting it for the millionth time since he bought it. "Elizabeth . . . I need to ask ye somethin' . . . "   
  
  
  
  
**End of Flashback**  
  
  
  
  
Angel gaped at him. "They were married? The two of them?" he asked, his voice surprisingly strong, "She's . . . she's . . . she's married."   
  
  
  
"Well . . . "  
  
  
  
"Whoa! Are you serious?" Gunn asked in shock, "Damn. Maybe she's just here to take care of the O'Connor line. Liam WAS her husband and . . . "   
  
  
  
"Oh, my God!" Cordelia suddenly gasped in horror, "What if she's your great, great, great, great, great, great . . . "  
  
  
  
"Ancestor," Gunn finished with a hint of mocking in his tone.   
  
  
  
"Ugh . . . can you say incense?" Cordelia said in a disgusted manner.   
  
  
  
Wesley shook his head. "They never had any children," he told them, "Life was too hectic to bring one in the world."  
  
  
  
"Not to mention how dangerous it would be for the kid," Gunn added.   
  
  
  
"Then I couldn't possibly be related to him . . . "  
  
  
  
"He had a brother," Wesley spoke before Angel could finish his sentence, "I would guess that's where you came from."   
  
  
  
Angel looked away, his jaws clenched in anger. He didn't know what to think . . . what to conclude. So many things ran through his mind . . . questions, doubts, and most of all . . . fear. Fear that Buffy was only there because he was related to some distant relative of his . . . only there because of obligation.  
  
  
  
And that hurt more than he could say . . . and for some weird reason, the cross she gave him and had worn everyday since then warmed eerily against his chest, throbbing with heat as thoughts continued to swim in his mind.   
  
  
  
  
  
Continued . . .   
  
  
  
  
  
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